


Murmured Oaths

by TheWriterWitch



Category: Original Work
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Tension, Awkwardness, Bathing/Washing, Boys In Love, Dorks in Love, Embarrassment, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Historical Inaccuracy, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kight, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, No Sex, Nudity, Royalty, Rumors, Running together under infinite skies, Scotland, Sympathetic Adultry, True Love, mlm, sfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26008528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriterWitch/pseuds/TheWriterWitch
Summary: Damn him. Damn him and every decision he had ever taken in life that brought him to this moment.A King and his Knight, lost to the joy of a night's sleep beside each other, decide to escape from the castle a bit to enjoy the fresh Spring dawn. Only when they reach a clear and gentle river does the King realize he may have gotten himself into more of a mess than he could handle...
Relationships: Original Male Character & Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 3





	Murmured Oaths

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, this was a lovely treat to write.
> 
> CW: If you haven't read the tags, this work includes clear references to homophobia, specifically through the church, though it isn't a big part of the writing. Please click away if it bothers you. Or simply skip the paragraph.
> 
> This is my first time actually writing in English, so feel free to correct my writing if I make some unbelievably dumb mistake!

Damn him. Damn him and every decision he had ever taken in life that brought him to this moment

Like the decision to get away from the castle for a bit.  
It was still a deep blue outside when he had woken up. The night sky still spotted with hundreds of glooming, pale stars, above hills of fresh grass and purple heather unraveling up moldy stone walls kept warm by the fires inside...  
The fire. He had slept so little that what remained of it, a small puff of sparkling ashes, still radiated some warmth over the entire room, and awkwardly lit the frame of the fireplace. Not that Alain could see it properly -always had weak eyes, not even with training did his wretched sight get better- but it was rather nice to wake up to a world that was at least partially lit up.  
He really tried not to wake Judas up, shifting awkwardly under the heavy sheepskin covers to try and get up to start up the fire again- just an excuse, really, though more heat was always appreciated in the windy rooms of the castle, even in Spring. Gasping for a breath of fresh air, he never intended to disturb his lover. Sleeping beside him felt so precious already. Precious, and, well, wrong, in a way.  
Before, it was almost- almost as if he was being a fool for ever allowing himself to fall asleep with him. They already had so little time, so little time to truly talk, to live their intimacy, and slumber, well, slumber was a completely different type of intimacy, one that felt stolen, even if it was just to gaze longingly at the other's lips, and the bridge of their nose, and the soft, tender eyelids-  
But now it was just flat out evil. Well, not _evil_. Maybe dastardly was the word he was looking for. Sleeping beside him, unashamedly bathing in each other's warmth, profoundly pleased by the other's presence- when Judas now had a wife, the King's cousin, no less, waiting alone, strong-willed, keeping her head high in face of the rumors and ill attempts at scratching away her dignity... not that Alain hadn't faced the same, of course, but nothing anyone could say would've brought him away from Judas, which he had made that perfectly clear from the moment he had declared him his Knight. But Meghan- she didn't _have_ the comfort of a loved one by her side, and though her fierceness was her greatest pride, he couldn't help but feel like the vilest wench when he couldn't resist bringing him up to the castle again.

Ah, to hells with it, he had thought when Judas inevitably opened his grey eyes to that starry night; he had married them off, he could steal the company of her "beloved companion" if he wanted to.  
Judas always was a light sleeper, being the very first one to sneak every morning out of their room to go back to his own, or to replace their nightguard every dawn - Lord, that seemed like _ages_ ago -; but Alain suspected it was far more than the result of a soul scarring existence in the army. Judas had never revealed a lot about himself, about his past, before he had found a place in court, but his quick sharp looks whenever something _felt_ out of place, his sheer disgust for the quiet night silence, they told a story for him, and Alain wasn't about to force it out of him. He never would have been. Instead, he gently leaned back to kiss his forehead, giggling at the sleepy groan that he received as a response.

And so, wide awake and eager for dawn, they had come up with what seemed like a good idea at the time.  
Let's sneak into the stables and have a morning walk.  
Not that Alain didn't want to spend more time with him. God, just that night had been... awfully _empty_ , with clear unspoken vows of affection, even if Judas had to leave the day after. But now, well, his panic was starting to make him regret this.  
They had silently swept over their covers and into the cold, dark passage that led to the library, as to not disturb the Queen quietly sleeping in the room right behind them. And, well, because getting out of there from the front door might have been too much even for Alain, with how unsubtle his courtship had become ever since Judas was upheld as a Knight, hells, even back before, he could remember some spars that could look ambiguous even at the eyes of the untrained-  
Nevertheless, they had quickly gained access to the stables, scaring the soul out of the poor boy who guarded them that suddenly saw their hunching shadows coming towards him, and after saddling their horses, had galloped away from the castle and his inhabitants and all the people and eyes and voices, like it was the last thing they were gonna do with their lives, like they were gonna run away.  
They had played through the fields, quickly leaving the safe paths that brought away from the palace, which was _incredibly_ dangerous and Alain would have never done that under any circumstance (as much as it hurt his pride admitting it, groups of brigands were not uncommon), putting himself uselessly at risk, unarmed, unhinged, but with Judas, oh it was so easy to forget his duties and to let himself be lead, away and astray, under the comforting guide of someone who loved him-  
Yes, quite alright, point being, they had run around a bit through the moonlit meadows, racing one another to meaningless half points until they had descended so much that they had entered a mossy, fertile little patch of trees and bushes and ever so growing underbrush that fostered a certain scent... not really a pleasant one, very rarely was Scotland's nature unapologetically pure, but still, the slightly sour smell of blooming flowers and rotten wood was not invasive, pungent, maybe, but not painfully so. And the slight chuckle of the flowing river was not so distant, and he had foolishly pointed out, oh, "I haven't bathed in the river in years", and, well, now it had come to _this_. Alain pondering his own judgment while intensely staring in a tightly knitted surcoat.

He had never- _they had never_ \- well of course they hadn't, what with the slight inhibition of his curse and all, but not even once- Judas had never even _suggested_ such a thing before then, even with five years - _almost five years!_ \- of delicate kisses and murmured oaths.  
Not that he _wouldn't_ want to, of course. No, he had cursed the Lord up above and the deepest pits of Hell more times than enough for him to admit to himself that he craved Judas with a need that could never be fulfilled. Maybe that was a positive, though; with all those talks of damnation for the impure, the unnatural, dirty, God-denying sodomites. But Alain had stopped listening to the Deacon long before palace rumors could influence the subject of his teachings. Specifically, he had stopped actively deciphering the long sermons since the name Judas took a completely new meaning for him. Listening to tales of betrayal and hate when that name, that beautiful, elegant, mighty word was the source of all his happiness, of all the good, the reason he was even still alive and breathing the fresh air of that crisp Spring morning, well, he just couldn't really take it seriously anymore. And if God would want to smite him down for the disdain of his Word, in fairness, it was his own fault for ever bringing someone with such a name into his life.  
So, yes, he had, maybe, been eager to share a bit more than it would have been allowed to with Judas, and maybe he had taken note of every shushed moan, every satisfying whimper, every delicate touch that had made his blood boil and his abdomen flare into yearning and undying anticipation- but _that_ was entirely different, those were his secrets, scraps of knowledge for something he could never achieve but could sure as hell imagine, like the soft pleasing groan Judas made when he was caressed behind his ears...

His reminiscing was interrupted by the unquestionable sound of splashing water, and Alain glanced over to where Judas had been standing and were now laid only a pile of clothes and a pair of boots. Oh.  
_Oh._  
Instinctively he turned around to follow the sound, though his head was pounding with screams of disgust at his own foolishness, you absolute cretin, _don't you dare oogle at him like some sort of bewitched youngling, do NOT let your eyes wander anywhere near the water, God, how could you have possibly been so-_  
But even the voice in his head seemed to shut up as soon as Judas emerged from the river, pale skin shimmering in the soft morning light, the water flowing down his shoulder following the winding way of his spine... his rough hands -hands that he knew so well, had studied for years, softly tracing their wrinkles with his own finger- gently pushing through the mass of wet, black hair as his arms fell back against his hips- beautiful, strong, tender hips that flowed into an even more beautiful and tender-  
If he could feel his face turn red before, now Alain felt slightly more inconvenienced, quite sure that the heat protruding from his body could have set fire to the dew showered grass and it would have been a fitting and well-deserved end for the world's biggest fool. Surely his mother might've missed him, but Phoebe could manage the Kingdom well on her own, and besides, if being set aflame was the price to pay to keep shamelessly gawking at such a sight, it was well worth it-

Or not. Judas suddenly turned, probably to see just where Alain was and to mock him into joining him, and an honest look of surprise took over his face when he found him (although _caught him_ might have been a better assessment of the situation) shamelessly staring at the tiny slither of skin between his abdomen and the surface of the clear, cold as all hell water.  
Well, shameless might not have been the most appropriate description since Alain immediately spun on his heels, hiding his face from Judas' gaze and depriving his eyes of what had been an entirely new experience, so much so that even the nagging voice in his head was starting to argue that another glance surely wouldn't have hurt him. Yet his body did not really feel lost in desire, not in the hedonist, lightweight way he had read about, that's for sure. No, he felt the very opposite, quite grounded, in fact, his sensibility heightened to new sensations, like the wind on his bare skin teasingly reminding him just of what that fowl curse had deprived him of...  
“I'd offer a dime for your thoughts, but I am worth so much more than that”. Judas' equally as teasing tone had burst through the silence and into his head like a spear, crushing through his ears and right into his brain, reminding him just of what an affable _jackass_ his lover could be. “Oh don't you flatter yourself!” Alain retaliated, though he had no idea how he managed to form a coherent sentence, let alone a sarcastic one, although his voice did crack into something that resembled more a rough growl of scorn and pleasure. Of course now there was no reason to stand there, edge of the Riverbend like the last offspring of an unwanted litter.  
He quickly took off his undergarments, leaving the unneeded cloth rest on a damp stone, covered by the warm weight of his short cape. For a moment, a very brief one, he wondered if Judas was looking at him too, his heart trembling for reasons he would never admit, not even to himself.  
“I never flatter myself, that's just how good I am”.  
Well, another great remark from him royal paramour. Honestly, fuck it. He couldn't stall any longer even if he wanted to.

The water was indeed freezing, and as Alain gasped for hair raising to the surface after quickly throwing himself into the idle river's water he was glad the sun had at least come up enough that he felt some type of warmth mending to his shivers. Now it was his turn to turn around towards Judas, this time blissfully too distracted by the painful sensation of those icy waters on his skin to let himself and his body wonder to the territory of what were at least completely inappropriate if not morally despicable thoughts, just to find his lover -God, was he even allowed to think that word? What had he ever done to be deemed worthy of _this_?- looking back at him, a slight grin on his face, his hand held up as mockery of some chivalrous offering.  
Still, an offering it was, and Alain timidly took it with an equally as timid smile on his face. It was alright. It was great, actually. He could definitely deal with this.  
What he could not deal with was the splash of unforgivingly cold water Judas immediately thrust to his face.

-

It was well over the first hours of the morning when the entire court finally found out what had happened to the King and his Knight. When Phoebe had woken up a few hours earlier and had discovered that the two lovers were not, in fact, in their usual hideout, she expected an appropriate amount of chaos to strike into the castle. Which of course it did, putting her on the spot being swayed left and right by disgruntled advisors demanding to speak to the King, her sincerely concerned and not so young anymore mother in law and all the new recruits she was supposed to be nursing and training right then.  
Saying that Alain's appearance at the castle's gates was a relief would've been an understatement.  
Saying she expected to see them return soaked wet and giggling like drunken friars would have been a flat out lie.  
With decisive steps and an unclear demeanor (she really did want to be appropriately mad at him, but how could she?) she had walked over to the cheerful pair, who in the meantime had barely managed to get off their mounts without crashing their skulls into the hard stone pavement. Good. Maybe a heaven-inflicted blow to the head would've taught them not to flee the castle in the middle of the night. Or at least to return before dawn, like she always did.  
“Care to explain why you've terrorized the stables boy and drowned yourself in cider?” Phoebe asked, her tone appropriately harsh but her eyes undoubtedly intrigued, pleading excited for a little more gossip from her royal husband.  
“Oh, uh, good morrow, my Queen” Alain managed to fumble finally taking his eyes off of Judas, who fortunately managed to remember a scrap of proper etiquette and gave an appropriately deep bow, before going back to towering over everyone around him, damned be his height.  
“And... uh... we fell in the river?” the King continued, carefully glancing over to his mate, who did not reciprocate the courtesy and fell into a spiral of wholehearted laughs, which were immediately followed by Alain's, who seemed incapable of keeping correct posture for more than a fraction of a second.

Phoebe shrugged, trying in vain to hide her own creeping smile. “Well, it is certainly too late for you to travel now, Sir Judas. Besides, you would never get far in that” she nodded towards his attire, wet and heavy and undoubtedly cold, about to freeze him shut into a prison of leather and cloth.  
Both of the noblemen looked over to her perplexed. Sure, it was a bit late, and the sun was already shining, but Judas could've just as well departed now and he would've been no more than a few hours late, if they had just something to gift to him so he could make his farewell...

Oooh. His farewell.

Alain was quicker at getting at what Phoebe was hinting, eagerly shifting in front of Judas and towards Phoebe, as an esteemed host should do with his guest “Well then, perhaps Lord Morrison could stay with us for another night!” he proposed- well, more like ordered, since no one had the authority or the will to stop him.  
Judas smiled, a sincere smile for a change “I would be grateful for such an honour”.

“Great!” the Queen's voice piped up again, determined and bubbly as always, already forgetting her supposed rage against her failure of a King and his unruly comrade “I shall arrange a bath for the both of you”.  
Judas still wasn't quite used to the idea of luxury, ever after officially being Royalty for so long that he had actually memorized some of the proper ways he ought to talk. The idea of an actual bath was always as surprising as the first time he was allowed to have a bed all of his own, and right now, he craved both of those things.  
Phoebe looked back with a playfully resigned expression “And a hot one, at that”.


End file.
